


drained

by Pudrifu



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hope, Kal'dorei, M/M, Withering, highborne, nightborne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 00:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15401148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pudrifu/pseuds/Pudrifu
Summary: Kel'danath found a lost and nearly withered man and decided to help him recover.(This is an AU in which Kel'danath found Theryn before he withered.)





	drained

**Author's Note:**

> So I made the quest "An old Ally" again and I just love the setting about Kel'danath and Theryn, as well as the whole thing about the withered and trying to search for a solution. 
> 
> This is an AU in which Kel'danath found Thery before he withered and maybe there will be a continuation.  
> English is not my native language, hope it didn't turn out to be total garbage. :'D

The whirring, pulsing sound was loud, too loud. The rushing of blood in his ears, his blood, someone elses' blood, he could not tell which. The other questions to be were; what could he still tell, was it his mind, through which those thoughts ran or was he nothing more than a withered one. 

It was dark, so dark. His body numb. At a certain point deeming not feeling his limbs anymore, though after multiple unintentional spasms he knew he still owned his extremities. Heavy, they just were ineffable heavy.

Warmth grasped his jaw with a soft pressure, forcing his mouth open.

A sweetly bitter taste melted on his tongue, after two slim digits pressed in between his dry lips. He felt life crawling back into his limbs, taking the heavy weight away. An unknown boost of energy. Trembling, he lifted his hand, capturing the wrist which those sweet fingers belong to. All too greedy he sucked on them. sweet. satisfying. More energy, chew, grind, energy. 

„Livelier than the last three days.“

An unknown buzzing of a voice, foreign, though it had a tone which seemed familiar to him. With a soft resonance awakening trust contrary to the unpleasant whirring flowing through his head. He tried to reply but the only thing that left his throat was a dried out grunt, muffled. With pressure he licked the foreign digits, gliding in between needily, while his teeth held them in place. Chew, grind, energy. 

His energy-source withdrew abruptly. Addicted he tried to follow, wanting to lick off the sweet taste again. Hard pressure on his chest held him back and let him sink back down into his lying position.

„Subject Sixteen is conscious, though not fully aware it seems. A continually supply with Mana prolongs, as already known, the withering procedure.“ The words seemed distant and faint, like they were not addressed to him. 

He felt the moisturized fingers, his sickly sweet source, caressing his naked chest. No Shirt, was he even wearing anything? Shame crept through him from the tip of his ears to his toes as he was getting more and more aware of his situation. The energy let his mind become clearer. 

„You are conscious, that is... good. Though your physical state is really worrying me. I know a little bit about first aid, but I am no Healer nor Doctor.“ 

 

He thought a voice sounding so compassionate was unfit to sound so clinical at the same time. Soft and hard bitten like someone is showing you the most beautiful silk wares talking about the sewing technique, while telling you a moment after that he is no tailor. 

He wanted to react, to reply, to shout out, anything but it all was so deeply exhausting. With ease he would have followed his energy-source without a second thought. Now he barely could lift his limbs or even move them. His nerves twitched in his hand as he tried to strain his muscles. His fingertips trembled and slow, very slow he trailed his right hand up, over his thighs, the raddled and ripped material of his clothes under his touch.  
Gliding upwards along his abdominal, feeling his visible ribs. Exertion let his hand rest on his chest, touching the moisturized digits with his fingertips, which held him back. 

„The withering drains you physical as well as mentally. You can understand me now.“

He was no withered yet, though his present state nearly let him believe that. Exhausted he nodded slightly. 

„Well, what a progress it seems. That is good, no that is marvelous.“ The voice sounded pleased.  
„I was nearly becoming insane talking to myself those last three days, trying to get you to answer me. I really thought it was over for you.“ 

The hand which held him back crept above his own, feeling much warmer than his skin, caressing his hand a little. 

„I am Kel'danath, and who are you my dear friend?“ The foreign hand embraced his. His throat felt dry, though his mind was not foggy anymore, not as much as before. Closing his mouth he tried to swallow saliva, gliding over his lips with his tongue trying to damp them.  
Who was he? He couldn't bring himself to get a clear answer. What was his name? Kel'danath sounded familiar, famous. Something in his mind knew that name but his own was a mystery. 

„...do... don't … k-know...,“ his words felt like razors cutting his throat open. Why didn't he remember?  
Silence lay in the room as Kel'danath slightly coughed and withdrew his hand once again. 

„That is lamentable.“ Another pause. „You will likely get your memory back when you have recovered. But first open your eyes so I can examine you some more.“

Only in this moment he knew that he had his eyes closed all the time. He didn't even think about that and would've kept them closed for the rest of eternity. As he opened them, he saw something that was just as divisive as Kel'danaths' voice. An edgy and stern face, with a caring expression in his eyes. A face with which the other man could demand everything from him.


End file.
